


it's a green christmas anyway

by cinderlily



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5531738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silly Christmas fluff. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a green christmas anyway

Mikkel pulled himself to sit up on the kitchen counter. Oliver was surprisingly actually _in_ the kitchen, seemingly cleaning up after baking something. They’d lived together for the better part of six years now and this was probably the first time he’d seen him actually bake something. Sure he’d made kottbuller a few times, even seen him tumble through Kraft Dinner after hearing some of the rookies talk about it… But baking?

“We having people over?” he asked. 

Oliver looked at him with a frown. “No, why?” 

“You do something I need to hear about?” he tried for flippant but the idea was a little intimidating. Moving? He wouldn’t cheat. He just wouldn’t. 

Oliver seemed actually baffled. “What do you mean?” 

Mikkel pointed at the oven. “You’re baking.” 

“Tomorrow is Christmas,” he said, like they hadn’t celebrated many Christmases in their life together. He opened the oven a little and a familiar smell wafted out towards him. 

“Gingerbread?” Mikkel sniffed happily. “You made me Gingerbread?” 

Oliver smiled happily. “Ginger snaps are on the stove cooling.” 

“We’re going to the Doan’s, O,” Mikkel smiled. “There will be plenty of desserts. Andrea will kill us if we bring more.” 

Oliver shook his head and for the first time since Mikkel entered the kitchen Oliver focused all of his attention on him. He slid between Mikkel’s thighs and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. “This is not for the Doan’s. This is for us.” 

“For us, huh?” 

“Danish and Swedish traditions, so _our_ tradition.” 

Mikkel laughed. “You sappy mother fucker.” 

“You like it,” Oliver kissed him on his cheek, and then again on his lips. “Plus we have to leave out for Saint Nick. You want good presents, right?” 

Mikkel nuzzled into Oliver’s neck and smelled the flour and ginger all over him. “Hmm, the kind of gifts I want can not be brought by a fat man in a suit.” 

A buzzer went off and Oliver pushed off. Mikkel let out a disapproving groan. 

“Jerk.” 

“You are a total distraction, Mikkel,” Oliver chastised. “No starting something we can’t finish.” 

“I think we can finish this,” Mikkel raised an eyebrow. 

“Doaner would know exactly why we’re late, you want that?” 

Mikkel instantly straightened up. “You know how to kill a mood, Ekman-Larsson.” 

Oliver winked at him. “Later, Boeds, later.” 

He knew he should offer to help clean up, his mother would literally thwap him on the back of his head for letting Oliver not only bake but also do the cleaning. But nevertheless, he let it happen. He liked seeing Oliver go through a routine, whether it be getting ready for a game or just cleaning up. His movements were smooth and always addicting to watch. 

When he finished he turned to Mikkel and gave him what could probably be seen as a glare if it wasn’t Oliver and he didn’t know him so well. “Thanks for all the help, Meeks.” 

“I do what I can,” he shrugged. 

“You know, had you helped we could probably share a shower, but now we have no time.” 

Mikkel’s ears perked up. “Shower?” 

“Well we have to be clean for the Doan party, but if we do it together…” 

“Screw Doaner,” Mikkel jumped off the counter and pulled Oliver into a messy kiss. 

Oliver laughed. “That was really not the idea.” 

Mikkel grabbed him by the belt loops, shifting them towards the door. “You know what I was saying.” 

“Wait!” Oliver stopped them. Mikkel thought for a second he might genuinely say no to the shower but instead he pointed upwards. _Mistletoe_.

With a smile he leaned in and kissed Oliver, letting it go on for way too long. It had been three years since they’d started this, whatever, ( _dating_?) but the kissing had yet to get to a point where it was any less giddy, where he felt any less warm afterwards. He pulled Oliver by the shirt towards him. 

“Shower, or we’re going to be beyond the cool kind of late,” Oliver said breathlessly. It was an entirely valid point but Mikkel found that his caring was slowly going down the metaphorical drain. 

“Doan probably won’t even notice,” he tried. Which was a lie. A total lie. 

Oliver kissed him, gentler and pulled back with a smile. “Quicker we go, quicker we can come back.” 

Mikkel gave an exaggerated sigh. “If you put it that way.” 

Oliver laughed at him, poking him in the side. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?” 

Mikkel leaned in and kissed him one last time. “Merry Christmas O.” 

“Merry Christmas Meeks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed but written with love by a Jew. <3 Merry Christmas!


End file.
